Golden Conversations
by The Duelist's Heiress
Summary: Takes place after my 1st prompted oneshot 'With This Ring.' Taking a trip down memory lane turns out to be literal for Mheralo Ishtar. First few chapters are set up chaps.
1. All Nighters

**DH AN: **I have a new fic up that, like **Veracity **started as a oneshot but I got more ideas. Enjoy chapter one of **Golden Conversation: All-Nighters.**

**POV: Mhera 1****st**** Person**

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**Golden Conversation**

**Chapter One: All-Nighters**

I stood in the kitchen doing the previous night's dishes with my engagement ring hanging on a silver chain alongside the first ring my fiancée gave me, rather than resting on my right ring finger. I sighed, setting the last dish on the rack to dry. My eyes began to shift around the room, looking for something that needed to be done; it was both a positive and negative quality, I was never too keen on being idle. I was certain I got this from my father.

I heard a loud banging from upstairs; whatever my father was doing was aggravating him more than it needed to. I debated whether or not to go upstairs and see what was causing the uproar, but after several consecutive bangs from the floor above, I quietly ascended the stairs. The banging was coming from my father's office I stepped forward, and leaned against the wall to wait.

Apparently I was heard, as I soon heard the executive chair slide away from the desk. The door opened and I shook my head. I knew my father had pulled yet another all-nighter; both the dark circles under his eyes and his drawn face proved it. I could understand why he would have pulled one ten years ago, but now… it seemed odd. I knew only one or two things that would keep him up all night, and since I was nowhere near the mortal danger I had been in years past, I could only think of one thing that would keep my father up at night.

The night I met Sheonel Yagasawi, due to a letter's odd request, I was placed in a room within the lower corridors. One of the first things I did, other than mope for a lost family heirloom, was go through all the drawers in the desk.. I found something that, even fifteen years later, my father never knew I discovered. It was a well-drawn sketch of my mother; thoughts of her were the only other thing that would keep my father awake. His soft voice gently derailed my train of thought.

"Why are you here, Mheralo?" He eyed me wearily.

"I heard the noise you were making up here." I answered cautiously. If all my years of dealing with my father has taught me anything, there were two. One, to answer truthfully, and two: to watch myself if I knew I was treading on thin ice. I would need to use both if I wasn't careful. "You were up all night." I stated almost too bluntly, as I was soon frozen in his gaze.

"Why should that matter to you, Mheralo?" My father's eyes easily got an answer out of me.

"I know of only one or two things that make you do this. Even if I eliminate those, one thing is clear. You have something on your mind. Tell me…" That last statement got me nowhere… my father was so fickle on what he would tell me without incentive. He just stared at me, silent as ever. It was going to be harder than I thought. He then spoke this line as if it were part of a script he memorized.

"How about we do this over a coffee…Mheralo." He suggested quietly.

I only nodded in agreement, stepping down the stairs in response.

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**DH: **There is chapter one. I have the next two chapters penciled in. Please review, and yes, I referenced **Jeweler**. Sorry it's short.


	2. Ringing Effects

**DH AN: **I'm back with another chapter of **Golden Conversations.** There is a flashback and a Phantom **Chapter Two: Ringing Effects.**

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Chapter Two: Ringing Effects

I softly retreated down the steps, still pondering over the cause for my father's self-induced insomnia. I would never ask him to admit it; I already knew it wasn't worth my time to attempt it.

I quickly started brewing the coffee; it's pleasantly misleading aroma slowly wafting through the room. I then silently retrieved my father's tan mug from the cabinet. Noticing my own blue one right by it, I decided to make hot tea for myself.

I quickly poured the coffee into my father's mug, and sweetened hot water into mine, which already had a teabag in it. Removing one of the now seldom-used platters from the cabinet, I set the two mugs on it and proceeded up the stairs, without a spoken word.

As I stepped to the zenith of the stairs, I was surprised to find my father was waiting outside the office. He took the tray from my hands, and entered his office, a motion from his head bidding me entrance. As I entered, he gently set the tray on the semi-circular mahogany table that had been outside his room,… until we moved here. We have lived here for seven years, and honestly, neither one of us has been happier, at least in my lifetime anyway. I actually think that my father has been happier…when he was sharing his life with the one he loved. My thoughts were getting sadder by the moment, and my father seemed to pick up on this. He always was one to untangle my problems. He set his hand gently, lovingly on my shoulder, then took his seat.

"You should be happy…" He hesitated, "You're engaged… to the one you love." His voice was soft and gentle. A slightly mischievous smile crossed his face, he started to softly laugh. "You know, I honestly can't believe you and I had the same idea." He was never too keen on sharing his emotions with me; most of the time that was no problem, but when it was his laughter, I wanted in on the joke.

"You don't…Father-you didn't-you don't mean…" I was certain he was jesting.

My father almost lost control of himself, but his voice remained as soft as ever. "You honestly thought Nashin got lazy that quickly on his own?" His voice dropped to a familiar husky whisper, "Oh, no; my Mheralo, I did that. But that, I can assure you, was all I did."

"That conversation…" I pressed.

"That was only advice, and you took it." My father softly argued.

"Then… if this is what you wanted from the start…why the ultimatum?" My voice shook alongside my body. It was not one of my favorite moments to recall, for reasons not just known to me.

_**Flashback**_

I felt Sheon's lips pull away from mine unintentionally. Tears began flowing down my face ever so slowly. I sighed, not knowing where I could take him to be looked after. But the one who would be able to help me in this task was not far off. I quickly gathered Sheon into my arms, heading for the museum.

When I reached the steps, Ishizu gave me a stern look that seemed to show sympathy. Somehow I knew that Ishizu would try to sway my mind on this. "I would advise you to think carefully, Mhera, about what action you take regarding this." Ishizu softly counseled me as she took the limp Sheon from my arms. She then beckoned me inside.

Once within the security of the curator's room, Ishizu set Sheon on the bed with care. She then tossed me a towel, and a dry set of clothes; consisting of a dark purple T-shirt, dark colored blue jeans, and a pair of black socks. My boots had been placed in the sun to dry. I dried myself quickly, wanting to wake up from what had become a living nightmare. Ishizu's voice broke the insurmountable silence as I was pulling the shirt over my head.

"You love him, don't you?" Ishizu asked softly. I did not answer, as trying to hide the tears coursing down my face was my primary concern at the moment. Ishizu then asked a question that I was able to answer in my heart, but my mind denied it. "Do you know that, in the act of saving you at cost of himself, he has proven he loves you more than words ever will?" I silently answered the question in my mind, body, and perhaps even my soul.

_I know he does, but why…why did he give me no explanation ahead of time? He shouldn't have saved me! Who gave him the ultimatum? _I thought.

The mirror caught my eyes; all it took was two seconds to figure out who had put the ultimatum up to Sheon. I trembled with fury. Who else had the means, or motive, to get to him?

_Who else but my father?_ I thought bitterly. I touched the silver ring that hung around my neck on a silver chain, gripping it tightly. Tears were coursing down my face, but I dared not attempt to discern which were tears of fury from those of grief.

I felt hands place themselves on her shoulders, seeing a look of sympathy on Ishizu's face. I then noticed the Millennium Necklace on my aunt's neck. I put a finger on the eye-shaped surface gently, looking Ishizu in the eyes desperately for an answer.

"How…how long have you known?" I almost sobbed, an action at which Ishizu took a deep breath, as if she was certain I would not like the answer.

"I've known about this event since you first encountered him on the boat, which is why I left soon after he came and sat with you." Ishizu somewhat guiltily turned away from me.

"Why didn't you tell me? If I had known…I could have stopped it." I sighed softly, closing my eyes, relying on the sense of touch alone to remember the ring's significance.

Ishizu sighed, "Even if you had known, there wouldn't have been anything you could have done to stop what your father had set into motion. Forgive me, but I thought it best you knew not that your time with this young man was limited."

I glanced towards the Millennium Necklace. "Can you see him in the future…can you see him in my future?" My eyes begged an answer.

"While this event was unable to be avoided, what becomes of it now can be very diverse. If the right path is chosen,… you may have him in your life yet." That seemed little relief to me, but it was enough that it wasn't weighing as hard on me now.

I tossed my hair back, exposing my ears from which two brass earrings, similar to Father's, hung. "Please, remove them from me. I want nothing holding me back."

Ishizu was perplexed. "Why would those earrings hold you back?"

"It is not the earrings themselves that would hold me, but the memory and symbolism." I stopped, but a look from Ishizu beckoned her to explain in greater detail what I had meant. "Those earrings were my initiation gift from my father. I believe that, since these earrings are the same as my father's, it has signified that I accept his choice of an heir, namely me, which makes me his heiress. Am I correct?" Ishizu nodded in agreement. I closed my eyes slowly, "That is why I ask you to remove them."

Rather than urge me to reconsider, to my surprise, Ishizu carefully removed the earrings, after which she held them indecisively in her hands. "Where should I put them?" She asked.

"I would like them where I can find them again, should my father and I reach an agreement." I answered the question without doubt.

"And if an agreement is not attainable?" Ishizu asked softly, eying I carefully.

"Then, so be it." I sighed resolutely. "Promise me you'll take care of Sheon, please?" My voice was a stressed whisper.

"I promise I will, Mhera." Ishizu said as they walked out of the curator's room. I turned to Ishizu, with a small smile.

"I always knew I could trust you. Why can't my father see that you care for him?"

"That is your father's concern, not ours." Ishizu said softly. I waved to her half-heartedly as I stepped out onto the steps, sitting on one to put her shoes on. I smiled.

_These steps… Are they the same ones upon which we kissed in the sunset? _They were. _Are these steps the same ones that I waited on for him to get me for our date? _Once again they were. Knowing I had not a minute more to reminisce, set off for her destination, the warehouse, taking the longest possible way there. I wanted to show my father that he didn't know me as well as he thought, and figuring I usually went through things fast, this would be the opportunity.

I walked silently down the street, only stopping to look at the pasta shop where, because of conflicts previous, we had ended up on our first date. _Now, that was an evening to remember. _I smiled as I thought of the apologetic look on Sheon's face, though he hadn't the need to wear it that night. I kept onward, pulling the chain out of my shirt so that the silver ring hung exposed, the amethyst stone within contrasting with my shirt. I was going to make him think. _Let it be war upon us both, then. If this is the only way I can do this, so be it. _I thought resolutely as I approached the building.

I saw a figure stride with confidence to where I was headed. I knew who it was, the cruel smirk only confirmed my suspicions.

"I see he made the right choice." My father laughed softly as if it was the best thing that had happened to him all day; unknown to me, it was. His lips straightened to see my reaction.

I stood still. It took all the discipline I possessed as well as a fine memory of the knowledge that my father had plenty of help at his beck and call, not to attack him. As he circled me, I felt as if I was stuck, and unable to move out of the circle. After seeing him do it only once, I was put at a slight amount of ease.

But that ease ceased once I reminded myself why I was here in the first place. All I needed to confirm her suspicions now was a look into her father's eyes. I looked, only seeing cold icy orbs that held no amount of remorse. "How could you?" I quietly sobbed, "Father, how could you do this…how could you do this to me?!"

He smirked, shaking his head, "Mheralo, I did not do a thing. He chose you. He should have known there were high stakes."

"You put him up to this, did you not?" I asked hotly. My father did not answer the question at hand, but answered one that had plagued my mind. The reason why Sheon took the ultimatum.

"All he wanted was your safety, the boy asked for nothing else." My father replied.

"You said you would give him a chance. Father, you promised me you would." I sobbed furiously. "You promised me!"

"I gave him that chance today. He failed miserably." He muttered the last three words, much to my displeasure.

"But you said he made the right choice. Tell me how that makes him fail."

"Because, he failed to ensure that I did not see that he cared so." He paused, seeing the chain ring around my neck "You realize you did no better." Without warning, my father then grabbed the chain and ripped it from my neck. "You belong to no one but me!" He hissed, amethyst eyes freezing me where I stood. A look at my ears would have proven otherwise, but I resolutely turned on my heel before he could see, exiting silently, leaving the ring grasped between my father's fingers.

_**End of Flashback**_

My father was silent…it wasn't one of his best moments either. He finally brought his eyes to face mine as if asking for the innumerable time to forgive him for that forgettable occurrence. I had already done so the first time he had asked. I only nodded in positive response to his silent question, setting my hand gently on his. "I don't know…" He responded quietly. His hand then moved from under mine, to the chain around my neck. He gently undid it, holding the silver ring so that only the amethyst stone was visible. He was shaking. "Why," He whispered softly "why was I upset by this ring…and not another?"

I was not willing to answer this verbally, as it was a question my father had directed at himself, but I knew something of an answer. He wasn't in control of it at that point, and he wanted to be a part of this, but his lust- I winced as this thought crossed my mind, as it was a strong word,- his lust for power kept him from that true desire.

My thoughts were quickly stopped as I heard the unfortunately familiar sound of my father's knees buckling and hitting the floor. I quietly kneeled in front of him, placing my hand under his just as my engagement ring slipped off the chain. I pocketed it, as I was not sure how he would react to me slipping it on my finger. He gripped me hard, and started sobbing softly. I just kept holding him, as he had done for me those years ago when I was pressed by veracity.

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**DH: **Okay, that was sad, but that is the last set-up chapter. I hope you liked it.


	3. Theatrics

**DH AN: **I am back with another chapter of **Golden Conversation. **This _might _be better than getting a new set of pajamas on Christmas Eve. Me, I like getting to open those on Christmas Eve. Anyway, Enjoy **Chapter Three: Theatrics**…and those new PJs. ^_^

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**Chapter Three: Theatrics**

My father still shook when he pressed the chain-ring into my hands, grasping them tightly. It was as if…as if he was fearful of losing me, and, I unfortunately realized, his last link with his beloved, when he gave me away in less than a few months. To him, time had always been a gift, but now it was like a curse.

Tears started routes down my face; it always, always, pained me to see him as broken as he was now. He might not know, but the way my father was unmatched at times in emotional consistency, and how it was used with great care around me; I consider it only one of the many gifts he has given me.

I felt his gentle hands wipe my tears away. "You know what I think of tears." He murmured softly. "I no longer think of them as a sign of weakness as I once did, but one thing from my past thoughts on the matter remains still." He looked me in the eyes. "That these tears, dear one, have never suited you, nor will they in the future. You know I am not alone in this opinion. You are so precious, and not only to me. Your fiancée would act the same way. Neither he nor I would want to see you sad or frightened, or your face show anything but joy and happiness. That has always been my wish for you…Mheralo." My father whispered my name soft, as if he was no longer worthy of it. I grimaced at the idea.

My father gently stood, hands still clasped around mine protectively, and I think, there was a slight bit of possessiveness in his grip. "Take a walk with me, one last time, as mine, and mine alone. You are mine, and I should never have lied to you…I have lied to you by omission, or otherwise." He shook me hard, tears tugging at his eyes, his amethyst orbs echoing the sorrow and remorse in his shaking voice. "I've lied to you so much, and you have failed to realize it; every time I thought it a blessing that you never found out." He was shaking. "Mheralo, for the sake of what conscience I do have, let me expose the lies I have told you one by one…let me show you the truth, so I can give you to your beloved with nothing hidden from you…" My father leaned his head against my shoulder, pleadingly whispering in my ear. "Come with me."

Without hesitation or thought, I let him lead me through his veracious trail of admittance.

Once we were out the door, my father released my hands, and dropped his own to his side. I took this opportunity to pocket my chain-ring. He led me through a few blocks until we were at a building I remembered all too well. The Domino Community Theatre.

He stopped, grabbing my shoulder as if I were going to wander off like a ballet rat in an opera house. He wanted to say something here; it was what he wanted to say that I was uncertain of. We sat on the steps.

Only then did I notice a poster promoting a tag team dueling tournament to help the local historical society preserve the old theatre. My father's soft voice drew my attention away from the poster, but not my mind from the subject.

"You should ask Sheon to enter with you." The words caught me by surprise; my father never addressed Sheon by first name, in front of me anyway. "You would do well." I was about to offer a statement of contradiction, but my father continued.

"Don't think I don't remember his duels; how can one ever forget dueling a nervous wreck? Even if he is not a champion," My father was watching my face as he continued. "When you are in danger, his nervousness is replaced with unmatched courage, and when he duels in that state, he has never fallen to his opponent; I have a feeling it will be the same when he duels beside you." He smiled a genuine slight smile, hesitating, "He dueled here for just that purpose seven years ago." I smiled slightly, even though it was a duel stacked in The Phantom's favor, (With Sheon as the Vicomte deChagny) it was one of the most interesting, and frightening, matches I had ever seen.

Without warning, I was forcefully dragged into my mind, and, unfortunately I knew what this meant; my father had a memory that he could only show me. I quickly went to the door at the end of my mental hallway; I knew what I would find. Upon my entrance, my father quickly pulled me into his own mental hallway, grinning out of surprise at the discovery that he could still pull me into his mind. "I guess I _can_ still do that… I always thought something else was responsible for it." His face lost all expression, tone becoming soft and somber.

He led me to the first door on the right, and pulling out a silver key somewhat tarnished with age, opened the door. A memory orb floated toward my father's waiting palm. He gripped my hand as the chamber faded from view.

_**Memory Sequence**_

I found myself in the theatre and shivered slightly. This was the final scene of the _**Phantom of the Opera **_production that had been tweaked to include a duel in said scene. Sheon was Raoul, my father The Phantom, and, unknown to both of them, my mother taking my place as Christine for the second act. That was all I was able to remember as I realized the turns this memory covered; the last one and a half.

The two actors stood with active duel disks. Each had a Swordsman on their side of the field. The two swordsmen, one with a normal hilted blade and the other with a skull handled saber, stood poised for battle. "You try my patience." my father hissed, getting involved in his role. "Make your move."

Sheon winced as the prop noose tightened slightly around his hand. "I attack your **'Phantom Swordsman'**with my **'Patron Swordsman'**. Since their attack points are equal, we shall both be defenseless."

"That's what he thinks." my father's recorded lines echoed through the speakers, "He'll soon find that he is very sadly mistaken."

The attack went through, leaving a lone facedown on my father's field. "I now activate my facedown card…" He stated calmly. I could see that although Sheon had witnessed this finishing move three times before, the line seemed so practiced from my father that he went white as the dialogue continued, "It is quite sad that you fell for a **'Stroke of The Trapdoor Lover' **It allows me to bring back the creature you just destroyed." The black garbed swordsman returned on cue, but with something else.

"That saber should not be there. It should be in the graveyard." Sheon stated frantically.

My father smiled a Phantom-esque-ly maddened smile. "It is but another effect of my card. It not only brings back my creature but any equip cards it had as well. And since you have no cards in your hand and only 2000 life points left, as soon as your turn ends,…" His last four words came out softer, but were still audible. "This duel is over."

_**End Memory Sequence**_

The next thing I knew, the sun was in my eyes, or so it seemed. The mental corridors were always dimly lit, and I always felt like a deer in the headlights afterwards. My father's voice brought me out of my stupor.

"He would have won had it not been scripted to end in his opponent's favor. You who wrote the duel should know that, my Mheralo." My father hesitated. "I have no doubt he will be good to you."

I had to ask something in response to his last statement, and I had no doubt that my fiancée would be good to me. "He came and asked you, didn't he?"

"Who and for what?" I went with the assumption that my father was feigning innocence rather than exhibiting ignorance. He knew exactly 'who' and 'what', but I was in the mood to humor him.

"Sheon came and asked your permission to propose, and that's why you took me to the restaurant that night." I smiled that smile that never failed to make my father uneasy. "You were in on it." I whispered half-accusingly.

"How did you know, Mheralo?" My father asked, lacing his words with false ice.

I shrugged, "You gave yourself away when you mentioned your keys…" I paused for effect. "We walked. I never forget any time you make me walk in those high heels… have I ever mentioned to you how I despise those?"

"Well done, Mheralo." He murmured as if I had seen through an alias he was using. He was only humoring me in return, as anyone could have made that observation. He closed his eyes and gently stood from the steps.

"Come, we must continue…There is nothing more I wish to reveal here." Once more, he held his hand out wordlessly, and I took it without hesitation.

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**DH: **I would like to take the time now to wish my readers a very Merry Christmas, or whatever Holiday you celebrate this time of year. This will be my last update before Christmas, so I hope you all have an enjoyable one.

On another note, this is the first time I have used the 'memory idea' in my published fanfics; I have a few unpublished ones. It was the only way I could expose the scene without contradicting what happens in PDTO, which is where that scene will go when I get there. Please Review.


	4. When Memories Are Brought To Light

**DH AN: **I have another update for **Golden Conversations**, and this chapter once again has a flashback, but I came up with the idea recently. Please Enjoy **Chapter Four: When Memories Are Brought To Light.**

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**Chapter Four: When Memories Are Brought To Light**

I followed my father as he silently led me onward, feeling his hand relish a loose grip on mine. His steps ceased, and gave my hand a gentle squeeze that somehow held firmness as well. I knew that was the way he eventually dealt with all matters concerning me, firmly and gently.

My father still kept his eyes forward, and when I saw that we were in the shadow of the warehouse that held less than desirable memories for the both of us; I was intrigued at how he knew where to stop without affording a sideways glance. His voice gently broke my thoughts.

"Why did you return…when you knew what would happen…why did you allow your favoring deceiver to make you part of his plan…that foolish plan?" With every pause his voice lowered in volume, until his last phrase came out as an almost inaudible whisper. "Why, my Mheralo?" I watched as his eyes panned across the expanse of the gray warehouse overlooking the docks, his expression removing any and all doubt that he had stopped here by chance. This place definitely held past events that could not be overlooked. Just as the warehouse would overlook the docks until it was brought down by time, so too would this haunt him until the time came to face it, and for us both, that time was now.

He calmly led me to the, now abandoned, warehouse. I watched as he slid one of the doors open, granting us both entrance. It was a decent-sized building, and I was surprised that it still remained vacant, until I recalled seeing an ad for a warehouse and an adjacent dock on my father's desk at some point in my comings and goings through the lower corridors; which almost seemed more appealing than where I was now.

My father pulled the door back down, and the scene seemed so familiar with the sunlight and shadows entering their graceful dance in just the right places; the sunlight slashing through the shadows at every point where they seemed the only thing in the line of vision. I faded into a memory.

_**Flashback**_

"He has requested you wait here." A cloaked figure behind me stated. I nodded in dismissal, and was quickly left alone. I really did not want to be here; though the room was fairly big, the shadows screamed claustrophobia; and though there was sunlight penetrating through the windows, the room felt so cold that I waited to see my breath, in vain as I saw the meager solar beams cast their glow in the room.

I began to hear footsteps that occasionally sounded like death-knells every few feet. I tensed as my father stepped through the first light shaft, light glittering on the gold bands he wore, those around his wrists and neck being the most noticeable.

I stood still as he continued his procession through the next few light shafts, almost blinded every time the processor and a shaft met. It seemed like only seconds, and he was right in front of me, his sapphire-amethyst eyes eagerly looking me over with both a critical and approving glance.

"Remove your ranks, Arlomhe." His voice broke my focus. I quickly obliged, reaching my right hand over my right shoulder, and undoing the clasp, slid the lightweight silver rank, streaked with a single thick slash of gold, off the flap and caught it with my right hand, placing it into my robe's outer pocket. I then switched hands and sides, repeating the process. Removing the pocketed rank, I placed it with the other one in my open left hand, awaiting the next command.

"Present your ranks." My father stated smoothly; the line well-practiced, as it always was. But there something different in his tone; I heard…anticipation. Nonetheless, I calmly held out the silver bars with the thickly gilded streak out to him. I watched as he gently removed them from my hand, and placed them in his robe's outer pocket. Fishing in his inner pocket for a few minutes, he removed from it what he sought, two ranks with the opposite coloration of my former insignia; gold ranks with a thick slash of silver. I mentally went through the rankings, realizing that I had been passed over for the golden thinly double silver-slashed rank and was now seeing… the second highest- rumored to be the rank of the Rare Hunters' next leader. I just stood, this had to most certainly be a jest, but my father never jested when it came to matters such as these. There was a part of me that wanted to decline right then and there, and yet there was a part of me that had been waiting for this, knew that it was coming…a part of me that was ready to take my place. I couldn't find myself ready to accept or decline the promotional offer. It was quite a decision, of this I was certain.

I was brought out of my thoughts when my father calmly pressed the two golden singularly silver-streaked ranks into my right hand. He then gently closed my fingers around them, smiling an almost genuine smile. "Consider it." He stated softly, pleadingly. Upon leaving the warehouse and for two hours more, I did as he asked, quite literally weighing the effects of that rank, but eventually decided with my mind, but not my emotions.

_**Pause Flashback**_

My reminisce was interrupted by a sigh from my father. Somehow I knew the same memories were going through his head as well; that aspect of our bond was never enjoyed, nor will it ever be relished. He and I were so alike that being in certain places brought memories back so clearly that it seemed like days had passed rather than years; which is why I was somewhat thankful that both venues of the Battle City Finals were now non-existent. I'd rather not think what of our pasts would greet us there.

I saw him leaning against the wall, murmuring something inaudible, save for the word "refuse" that had a slight sobbing sound to it, a sound that sent me back to the same memory, the second time I was there.

_**Resume Flashback**_

I was once again led by the same individual, given the same place to wait, and was soon hearing the same death-knell-like footsteps every few feet. However, two hours after the first instance, I was shaking all the while when he came, awaiting my decision. I swallowed my apprehension and stepped towards him, quickly closing the gap between us. My eyes still showed hesitance, of that I had no doubt. My father stared at me with anticipation being the only emotion I saw within his icy orbs.

I quietly, almost reverently, removed the silver slashed gold ranks from my inner pocket. My father's palms lay open; ready to accept them back should I refuse to take them. My hands shook; I still had time to accept what was by both blood and privilege mine; still had time to take my place at my father's side, and still had time to take my title as The Duelist's Heiress to its full meaning. And yet that was why I had to deny myself that honor now… I still had time.

But I wanted so badly to accept for another reason than those previously thought through. This act, it screamed "refusal" no matter how I wanted it to come out. But I also knew what acceptance would bring. I made up my mind as I gently placed the ranks back into my father's hands, closing his fingers around them with my own.

All I could bring myself to say, to somehow ease my own pain while trying to lessen my father's, was a quiet, slow, and reverent, "I've considered." Tears tugged at my eyes mercilessly as I placed my hands over his fists, the sign of a final decision to decline. "I'm sorry." I uttered softly as I turned away. I walked on, already hearing the echoes of betrayal in the guise of the refused ranks being thrown against a wall.

Amidst those echoes, my paced footsteps, and my uneven breaths, my father's telepathic voice lamented the refusal, covering lamentation with heated fury. _"How could you refuse, my dear? How could you refuse the magnitude of what your only favoring deceiver has offered you?" _

I knew there had to be more, but the instance was ceased by one of us, and I cared not who, for I wished to hear no more regarding it. I walked out into the warm sun, feeling cold that exerted itself through my body, chilling me with grave remorse.

_**End of Flashback**_

I felt tears flow down my face, and those same tears being wiped away by a gentle hand. A soft, cold voice found its way to my ear, whispering almost inaudibly.

"My Mheralo…please forgive your favoring deceiver once more…forgive your undeserving father." The gentle hand then moved from my face and began to run lovingly through my hair. I looked to see my father's tearstained face almost mirroring mine. As with the last time, I was hesitant, but rather than at my answer, my hesitance was at how to word it.

A tear fell from my father's eyes and my finger quickly wiped it away. I knew a tear glided down my face as I grasped his hand. "I already have." I smiled slightly as my father once more opened the warehouse door and we stepped out into the sun toward our next destination.

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**DH: **There it is, another chapter. And this flashback will be in Book II of the Powers Trilogy; which finally has a title that I like, **Powers of Loyalty. **But first I must finish **Powers Revealed. **Please review.


	5. Seven Year Musings

**DH AN: ***Blows off the proverbial dust off this fic as well.* Sorry about the wait. I've been lazy this summer so far. Despite the length of time that has passed since this fic was updated, I sincerely hope you enjoy **Chapter Five: Seven Year Musings**

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**Chapter Five: Seven Year Musings**

My father and I stepped out into the sunlight, still somewhat shaken from the memory that had chosen to greet us at our last destination. With no warning, I grabbed my father's left hand and bolted towards a destination presented by my subconscious…but I soon realized that there was no destination. I stopped abruptly, breathing heavily. I stood still with my eyes closed, trying to control my unexpected flood of separate indistinguishable emotions. I felt my frame shaking so violently that one would have been blind not to notice.

"You're shaking." My father stated bluntly as he placed his right hand on my shoulder. "I'm more than certain it does not concern less than desirable essays." Normally a comment of this nature would have little effect on me, but now it only brought feelings of trepidation back that were equal or greater than those of that day so many years ago. It _wasn't _because of any essay; I inwardly agreed that my father was aware of this. Though I suppose I should have been thankful that he had chosen that memory among many others that affected me in the same manner. He had once again picked up on a subtlety and linked it to a memory. It was something that would never cease to amaze me.

My father was not a servant to communication stereotypes, most prominently picking up on non-verbal cues with ease. Seeing as he devoted a great deal of time and patience to the mastery of reading faces, this observation should have ceased to surprise me years ago. His methods always differed as to revealing his implementation of the practice; perhaps that would explain why my interest was piqued without fail upon every occurrence. His voice provided what words alone could not, granting passion, conviction; not even I could understand the prowess and finesse with which he was able to influence and convey what he wished.

My father winced, as I realized I had applied far too much pressure to his hand. I loosened my grip, releasing his hand and placing mine into my own pockets. He placed his left hand onto my shoulders. "Why, after the many opportunities you were given, have you not learned to lead?" He asked softly.

"I don't know where to go." I admitted softly.

"What leads you to believe that you have not led us somewhere with meaning, Dear One?" He sighed loosely. "Look and see where we are."

I obeyed, opening my eyes. I found myself speechless, my mouth agape as it had been fifteen years prior when my father had revealed the tapestry. Rather than the sounds of a Wall-Switch at work, we were met with the sounds of an unseen ocean. A large oak tree consumed my line of sight. The large boughs spread shade far onto the ground. Seven years earlier, that tree had provided me with comfort as I had debated what step I would take from there.

I inhaled shakily, doubt seeping into my mind. "How much do you know about this place?" I faced him; my voice was a whisper as I heard several unasked questions; the primary one pushing at the back of my mind concerned whether I had been granted mental sanctity at that point. It was a question I would never ask him; not only was I doubtful of the answer, our memories of a few of the events that brought me to the point of resignation had recently resurfaced. It was an experience I was not keen on enduring more than once.

My father shook his head side to side, "I know nothing about this place; it is you who brought us here."

Turning back to face the tree, I inhaled tentatively as if I were about to confess a secret that I had knowingly kept from him for years. "This place…it was where I first considered my resignation." My voice came out softly as I waited to see if there would be a reaction. Seven years ago, I would have never placed a conditional 'if' in any statement concerning my father's tendency for a reaction when confronted with a statement like my one prior. There was one; it never mattered whether the reaction was positive or negative.

"You always had a choice. You had one as soon as I pressed the proposition upon you, Dear One." My father murmured. "I never denied that resignation was a possibility. I knew you would find a way to accomplish it if that course of action ever became necessary." I glanced at him, noting his gaze was fixed on the tree as if it were familiar to him. He averted his gaze after a quick glance at me. "I should have seen that you possessed the necessary duration of time in which to discern what action you would take next. It was a concept which I ensured you possessed a firm grasp of. Time allowed you to consider all the factors, be certain of your options and fully aware of the consequences."

"They were consequences that could have been avoided if I had simply refused the proposition." I murmured, hesitating. "Is that true?"

"Upon the presentation of the proposition's terms, I recall telling you that even if you refused it, the results would be the same." He paused. "Though if things had gone differently, if those two boys had merely curbed their curiosity… what transpired would not have been necessary." I turned to face him once more.

"What transpired," I huffed, sitting down at the base of the tree, "was not entirely their fault." I laid my arms over my knees. "They weren't the ones who slipped in. Placing all of the blame on them hardly seems fair, now does it?"

"I suppose I still do not understand." My father exhaled softly. Only when I shook my head in confusion did he elaborate. "During our first discussion behind the wall, I recall asking you a similar question. Your partial response to me was that I didn't understand." He sat beside me, to my right.

"What is it that you do not understand?" I leaned against his shoulder with a loose sigh.

He sighed softly in turn, pondering my question. "What I truly do not understand is why you decided at the time you did; you should have chosen much earlier." My father's voice was soft with the last phrase as he glanced at me. "What made you wait?"

"I wanted to convince myself it wasn't you." I whispered, noting that my voice shook. "I wanted to believe that you were incapable of using the desires of others to further manipulate them…or that you would consider-" My sentence broke… I could not think of an ending to it. Standing, I took one step, inhaling slowly. "I was attempting to keep the notions that I held when I slapped Noinreil after that remark ten years ago."

My father stood. "There was proof in front of you that I was entirely capable and willing to use whatever I could in order to accomplish my means. You were foolish to believe those convictions of yours." He set his hands on my shoulders. "You also held onto that notion for far too long." He stated softly. "You still retained those ties, despite the problems it spawned because of me."

"It was not because of you. It was my choice to keep those convictions." I murmured. Turning to look at the tree once more, I realized that I felt peace here. It wasn't simply because of the significant event that occurred here; it was because of something simple. On a whim, I stepped back towards the tree, and ran my hand across the trunk. It was smooth at certain parts and rough at others. It was a sensation I knew. The tree was the same as the Seven-Year Oak that was in the oasis within the corridors. It only seemed fitting that I would make a decision of that magnitude under the same type of tree.

"Seems synchronicity strikes when we least expect it." My father glanced at me; "unless our minds are playing the same trick on us both."

"If you think it's a Seven-Year Oak and I don't disagree with you, synchronicity is indeed the word to use." I murmured, heaving a sigh soon after. I took to gazing at the ground, remembering the significance that was rooted within the oak within the complex. "You still miss her." I stated softly.

"I always will miss her, Mheralo; no amount of time will ever change that." My father murmured. "You have seen proof of that as well, Dear One." My chin touched my chest in regret for the naivety my father always seemed to imply when he was confronted with this matter. I should have known that response awaited me, as I should have known better than to ask.

My father broke my thoughts. "I understand why you always ask. You never knew her." He placed his hands on my shoulders. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I swore that I would never hold information from you regarding your mother. If I were to withhold those details from you, I would be no better than-"

"Your own father." I interrupted him with equal softness. His hands contorted into fists as he gripped my loose shirt.

"How do you know?" His voice gained an edge that I hadn't heard in years; despite that, it was almost indiscernible.

"I was in the room when Ishizu spoke of your childhood, by choice not circumstance." I softly supplied. "As I said to you during our second encounter behind the wall, concealing your emotions has been ingrained into you by something I needn't know. After hearing about… what transpired, it is not difficult to see why you would make a promise of that nature." As this subject was one that my father wished to keep as buried as he could, I turned to face him, my tone soft and meek as I continued. "From what little I heard of him, I surmise that he was very distant from you, and you resented him for it. Forgive me for bringing this subject into our conversation."

"How many times must I assure you that you needn't watch what you say with the vigilance that was once required?" My father asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"It is not a matter of watching what I say or do not say to you." I stated, looking him in the eye. "I apologized because I respect you and realize I just reopened your two greatest emotional wounds in one setting." My voice was calm, and I was struggling to keep it that way. "I still feel guilty about what I said during that argument when I was nine…I've never understood why you did not strike me. You had every right to." My voice was a whisper as I turned away from him.

"That was said out of vexation rather than spite; you know that as well as I." My father murmured. "The pallor of your face after the remark was made proved it."

"It still doesn't answer my question." I calmly pointed out.

"You said yourself that you respect me." My father began. "I know you would never have said something like that under normal circumstances." He inhaled loosely. "Even when you had no reason to respect me, you still were relatively cordial and certain of your next move." He turned to face me, "Those two traits were perhaps two things that most aided you in the circumstances that followed."

I shuddered as my sharp memories of the events that he spoke of invaded my mind. I felt my father's hands on my shoulders, causing my anxiety to vanish. I exhaled shakily.

"How quickly I forget how you react to even a vague mention of those events." He murmured, softly stroking my hair with one hand, the other was still on my right shoulder in assurance. His hand moved from my shoulder to grasp my hand tightly. I winced. He loosened his grip with a sigh.

"I hear that there is a coffee shop somewhere around here. Perhaps we might get breakfast?" I suggested as I took two steps forward.

"That would be quite reasonable, especially since neither of us seem fond of revisiting our morning beverages that have gone cold." He motioned for me to follow him once more.

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**DH: **I really, whole-heartedly apologize for the lack of updates on this fic. I am going to be working on the stories that I coauthor with **Ataahua**/**Rugrat247**. Please Review.


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